13 - Deadly Trap: Off the Grid: FBI by Barbara Freethy

Author:Barbara Freethy [Freethy, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Off the Grid: FBI#13
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Nick was so annoying, Isabella thought, as he left the attic, having gotten the last word. He was also a really good kisser. Although she still wasn't sure how that had happened. One minute they were talking and the next they were kissing, and it had taken all her resolve to take herself out of his arms.

She wasn’t quite certain exactly why she'd stopped, because she'd been as into him as he'd been into her. Maybe that was the reason. She'd felt like she was getting swept away, giving into desire, losing control, and it had scared her. Not because they might have had sex on the attic floor, but because she was feeling too many things for him that went beyond the physical, and that made her nervous.

She'd done the right thing. She'd backed away, and she wasn't going to ask him for another kiss, even though her lips were still tingling from the last one. She knew better than to let a man get her off course. Her mother had shown her numerous times how bad of an idea that was.

Turning her attention to the books, she picked them up and stacked them against the wall. Most were romance or fiction novels, but one with a red leather cover jumped out. It was a journal, and when she opened the first page, the name and the writing made her catch her breath. It was her mother's journal.

A knot of emotion formed in her throat. She didn't need to look at this book. Her mother wasn't involved in anything. This journal wouldn't help her solve the mystery of the paintings.

Or would it?

Her mother knew art. She'd studied Lucinda. She'd gone to the school run by Frederico. She'd been friends with Stefano. Maybe this book was exactly what she needed to read.

She sat down on the ground and leaned against the wall as she turned the page to the first entry.

Her mother's familiar handwriting tugged at her heart. She'd gotten a lot of letters from her mom while she was in jail and was very familiar with the slightly crooked scrawl and the way her mom wrote short sentences that weren't always explicitly clear. Her mom had a mind that loved to jump around from thought to thought, which was probably one reason why she rarely thought things through.

Her gaze ran down the page. The words were in Italian, which made sense since her mother had written it when she was a teenager. But a name jumped out that she immediately recognized: Stefano.

Taking out her phone, she spoke the words into the translation app and then read the English translation.

I might be in love with Stefano. Or maybe I'm in love with him because he's in love with me. He makes me feel so warm, and I like the way he kisses, the way he takes care of me. But when Stefano talks about the future, I just can't see him in mine. I don't want to stay here in this house or this neighborhood or even this country.

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